


A Regular Casanova

by Skyuni123



Series: The Honeypot Chronicles [1]
Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Benji Dunn is Bad at Flirting, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Honeypot, Humor, James Bond (references), Spies & Secret Agents, Team Dynamics, Team as Family, everyone is bi, everyone is happy and together and stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-22 13:08:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4836530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyuni123/pseuds/Skyuni123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Benji's turn to chat up the mark. It's not that he's bad at flirting, it's just that he doesn't particularly enjoy doing it for a mission. </p><p>Perhaps it’s because the whole team places bets on whether or not he’s going to succeed with his ‘conquests’ (it’s a bad term, but it fits, as it were). Of course, he always does get the intel, but it rarely ends well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Regular Casanova

**Author's Note:**

> I've seen Rogue Nation twice. No shame.

It’s Benji’s turn to chat up the mark. 

It’s not that he’s _bad_ at chatting up people, because, frankly, he’s pretty great at most things; hacking, hotwiring systems when everyone else has royally fucked them up, chatting up people… 

It’s just that he doesn’t particularly like it. 

When Jane had come back with the intel that the mark, a very-powerful looking brunette woman who runs a pharmaceutical company, has a thing for short, nerdy guys, Ethan had raised an eyebrow at him and Brandt had coughed pointedly, “Benji, you’re up.”

He had protested, obviously, because he’s not _nerdy_ , he’s just _specialised_ and it’s not _his_ fault that everyone else is far too fixated with shooting things and running places to actually focus on the technological side of things. As for the ‘short’ thing… Ethan is at least three inches shorter than him and doesn’t deny it when Benji points it out.

He just supposes he fits the profile slightly better than the others. Hmph. 

They take turns at this sort of thing.   
The whole team (Ethan, Brandt, Ilsa, Jane, and himself) take turns at the whole sort of ‘chatting up’ thing.   
It’s just that Benji tends to try and avoid his turn if at all possible.

He supposes that flirting with someone for intel is much better than being on a rainforest watch for three days straight, or crawling through sewers in order to get into a top secret military base (both Ilsa and Ethan had extolled the virtues of sheer medical-strength soap after those misadventures), but he just doesn’t like it.

Perhaps it’s because the whole team places bets on whether or not he’s going to succeed with his ‘conquests’ (it’s a bad term, but it fits, as it were). Of course, he always does get the intel, but it rarely ends well with the marks. 

It’s not very fair. Jane and Ilsa are both confident and stunning, able to seduce anyone with a glance.   
Ethan can be the most charming man in the world if he plays his cards right.   
Brant is just cocky enough to be likeable. 

Benji is… just Benji. 

He’s funny, but it can get to the point of alienating and really, the only thing he’s good at in terms of flirting is playing shy. Because he is. It’s potentially rather problematic, getting so close to the role like that, but he’s played it more times than he can remember, sometimes for missions, sometimes not. It doesn’t often work. 

He’s dragged to a party, mostly against his will, by Ethan. Ethan, as per usual, looks fucking stunning in a blue tuxedo. Then again, he doesn’t look too bad himself. 

He’s always thought he could be the next James Bond. He’s got the accent down pat, and in this tux he could pass for an (albeit, rather less muscular, and less confused about his sexuality) facsimile of James Bond. He’s rather lost in his head, considering who would be his Q in his James Bond film while making his way through a glass of particular-good champagne when Ethan hisses in his ear over their comm.  
“Benji!” 

He snaps back into a semi-state of alertness. He supposes it is a survival mechanism. “What?”

“Your target, remember? In the black dress.”

Benji grumbles as he looks, “Everyone is wearing black dresses.”

He hears Ethan stifle what sounds like a laugh, “Fine. Asymmetrical hem, black, mid-length dress, brunette, very tall… Do you see her?”

He does. Ethan was not kidding about the ‘tall’ thing. The woman is far taller than him and looks as powerful as her position suggests. She’s absolutely stunning.   
He gulps and tries to hide some of his panic by saying, “I had no idea you were so versed in clothing terminology, Ethan.”

“Well, you know… you identify enough people for a living…” Ethan sounds thoughtful, “I’ve picked up a few things.”

“I’m sure.”

“Yes, and if you two gentlemen could leave the flirting until after Benji’s got our information, that’d be lovely, thank you.” Ilsa says over the comm system, reminding Benji that everyone can hear what he will be saying to the woman, who goes by the name of Samantha Frost. 

“I wasn’t flirting!” Ethan says indignantly in the background as Benji tries in vain to tune the pair of them out, “He’d know if I was flirting.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a regular Casanova.” Brant says dryly, also in the background. He, Ilsa, and Jane are in a van about two hundred metres down the street from the function centre where the party is being held. Clearly they’re getting bored.

Benji wishes they’d just shut up. He has a job to do and they’re treating it like a joke. While the mission is not amazingly important, he’d prefer not to have to get the intelligence they need the hard way.

“My seduction skills are legendary.” Ethan boasts.

“Legendarily bad.” Jane chimes in and sounds like she’s going to get into a story.

“Honestly, people, as much as I enjoy your absentminded chatter in the background, I would rather like to get this job done.” Benji snaps over the top of their conversation, hearing the comm line go blissfully silence.

There is a moment of silence and then Ethan speaks, sounding suddenly all-business, “Of course, Benji.” 

The comm line stays silent. He guesses they’ve taken their conversation elsewhere. 

Good. Now he can focus on the job at hand.


	2. A Regular Casanova?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been two years since i started this fic lmaooooooooooooooooooooooo

He approaches the woman carefully. His cover is a powerful, but very reclusive technology magnate, which he’s sure is of some interest to Samantha. Professional interest, sure, but anything more? He doesn’t know. He’s not very good at judging people’s emotions.

 

Adjusting his tie, more out of nerves than out of any real need, he asks the (very powerful and very scary) woman, “Are you Ms Frost?”

 

“Why, yes.” She casts aside the cocktail she is holding for a moment and speaks in a strong British accent, one that definitely fits her powerful position, “What is it you want?”   
  


“I was… made aware by a  _ significant  _ party that your security system needs some upgrades.” Benji explained. In this case, the significant party was Ethan, and the upgrades the system needed was his tech, inside her software, stealing her secrets. He didn’t, however, mention that fact to the woman.

 

“Indeed, little one.” She says, with a curious look at him. Her voice is heavily accented - something along the lines of Austrian or German if he’d hazard a guess. He doesn’t know how he missed it before.

 

“Little one.” Brandt snorts in his ear, “Kinky.”

 

Benji gulps, and wills them to be silent. It doesn’t help.

 

“Tell me, who told you that, little one?” Ms Frost continues, appraising him cooly. Her glance isn’t overly alarmed, but it worries him. He might be overthinking it.

 

“A friend.” He shuffles closer. At this point, he would usually try to take her arm or something (he’s read the flirting manuals back to front) but this powerful woman looks like she could flip him  _ so  _ easily. “Lucien. Von Steinberg.” It’s an old alias of Ethan’s, but it’s one that’s never been burned. Von Steinberg is another technology baron, albeit a reclusive one, who lives in a mountain in the Swiss Alps.

 

“Lucien!” Her eyes widen, almost imperceptibly. Something soft crosses her features. “How is he? I haven’t seen him in nearly ten years.”

 

Huh. Looks like Ethan might have prior knowledge of the mark after all. Ethan is certainly short enough but Benji couldn’t really see him playing a ‘nerd’ in the accurate way that Benji can. “Lucien is well, Ms Frost. Now, your security system?”

 

She seems to balk slightly at the change of tone, but shakes it off almost immediately. “Yes, of course. Do follow me, Mr -”

 

“Oliver Bond, ma’am.” He’s not quite shaken off his delusions of grandeur from earlier. “Co-owner of Technical Safety Solutions.” 

 

TSS is a front company owned by their bosses, but no-one needs to know that. It works well whenever any of them need a cover for something.   
  


“Oh yes, I’ve heard of you.” Her expression doesn’t change. “Come on then, Mr Bond.” 

She grasps him none-to-gently by the elbow and makes him follow her.

 

Her grip is… uncomfortable, but it is not as though he can shake it off.

 

“Mr Bond!” Brandt chortles, from somewhere far away. “Still, she’s clearly taken an interest to him. Five bucks says Benji gets laid by the end of this mission.”

 

He wants to gently remove his earpiece and then crush it underfoot, but that would be unprofessional. He settles for gritting his teeth at the nearest security camera, which he knows the team have hacked into.

 

“I’ll make it ten saying he doesn’t.” Jane says wickedly. He can hear her smile.

 

“Twenty.” Ilsa adds. Darn, he thought she was the  _ professional  _ one. Bloody British Intelligence and all. He’s never doing them a favour again. “She’s got a four poster bed,  _ and  _ she ties him up.”

 

Benji lets out a little squeak at the thought. He can’t say he hasn’t done worse (twenty-odd years with the IMF will do that to you) but he’s not exactly… into… that sort of thing.

 

“Cut it out everyone.” Ethan interjects, his voice coming in a blast of static. Lord knows what he’s doing, Benji hadn’t heard much after ‘go seduce the mark’. “Let Benji do his job.”

 

“No bets for you then, Ethan?” Brandt chortles.

 

Benji just wishes they would all  _ shut up.  _

 

Samantha turns a corner and guides him towards a set of lush wooden doors. It is quieter now, they’re far away from the party - but he just wishes the voices in his ears would shut up so he can focus on the mission at hand.

 

“Fifty that she’s a closet submissive.” Ethan says thoughtfully, after a very long pause.

 

His friends roar with laughter.... and he wishes the floor could open up and swallow him whole. He knows they don’t mean anything by it - he mocks them all the same when they’re on honeypot missions, but he’s really not feeling up to anything today. He wonders if he’s getting sick. He’s certainly not feeling ‘on his game’ tonight. 

 

“There’s no cameras in her room, Benji.” Jane warns, suddenly shushing the others. “When you go in there, you’re on your own visually until you get into her computer.”

 

He raises his eyebrows in acknowledgement at the final camera in front of the door. Well, he supposes that if he  _ does  _ have to ‘do the deed’ (so to speak) at least it won’t be captured for posterity. He keeps himself in good shape - it’s a prerequisite of the job - but he’s not twenty anymore.

 

The earpiece falls mercifully silent.

 

“Do sit down, Mr Bond.” Samantha gestures at a red velvet chair. “Might I ask you for some credentials?”

 

He nearly drops his wallet as he hands it over. Damn. He needs to work on the whole ‘subtlety’ thing. But, his credentials are sound. He made sure of that. 

 

“Interesting…” She says, but doesn’t elaborate. “Then, how can your company help me?”

 

He goes into his sales pitch. It’s boring, but not dense enough to lose her interest. He crafted it himself, and he’s pretty proud of that.

 

“It sounds like your  _ work  _ would be very beneficial to me.” Samantha remarks. “But tell me, what can  _ you  _ do?” She asks, with a hint of a tease.

 

It’s enough of a come on as any. 

 

Discretely, he removes his earpiece and drops it into a nearby planter. They only work with skin contact, and his teammates don’t need to hear what happens next. He can hear them complaining as the feed drops out.

 

“Well, that is another question  _ entirely.”  _

 

-

 

Thirty minutes later, or thereabouts, he slides open the door of the van and drops a thumb drive in Brandt’s lap. Jane has her feet up on the passenger seat, Ilsa is monitoring a security feet, and Ethan is sitting, not a hair out of place but with a large bruise on one cheek, on the floor. 

 

“Done.” He says, and drops into a spare seat, suddenly very tired. He can’t quite meet anyone’s eyes. He straightens his collar with one hand. “Spyware installed, and that’s what she had locally.”

 

Jane starts the engine and the van rumbles to life. They take off down the streets of Paris, streetlights twinkling outside.

 

“...so?” Brandt raises an eyebrow at him, after tossing the drive to Ilsa, who catches it with one hand. “You went AWOL for a bit. Who won?”

 

“You will never know.” Benji lays his head back against the seat, a headache pummeling at his temples. “Get fucked, Brandt.”

 

Brandt starts, “but that is -”

 

“Entirely within his right.” Ethan interrupts, with a curious look. “Who won though?”

 

“Why don’t you pay me eighty-five dollars and we’ll call it even.” Benji says, and sneezes very loudly, surprising himself. “For all you know, I could have done all of those things you bet on.”

 

Or none of them. But they don’t know that. And neither do you. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> lol it's finally done what what
> 
> check me out at [villainousfilmmaker](http://villainousfilmmaker.tumblr.com)  
> or my [twitter](http://twitter.com/skyuni123)


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